


Perfect

by Camfield



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cocksleeve, Just comfort of sorts, M/M, no real sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27601924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: When Jesse was like this, he felt like he could drift off to sleep and stay there for eternity.It was a comforting position, though perhaps not the most comfortable one. On his knees, toes together because his thighs refused to be. The outside of each knee touching the inside of a black boot and his own arms resting loosely on Gabriel’s legs. Hands resting on hips as he nurses the bigger man’s cock with heavy lidded eyes and heavy color on his cheeks. He’d lost feeling in his feet a solid half hour ago. More, maybe.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Perfect

When Jesse was like this, he felt like he could drift off to sleep and stay there for eternity.

It was a comforting position, though perhaps not the most comfortable one. On his knees, toes together because his thighs refused to be. The outside of each knee touching the inside of a black boot and his own arms resting loosely on Gabriel’s legs. Hands resting on hips as he nurses the bigger man’s cock with heavy lidded eyes and heavy color on his cheeks. He’d lost feeling in his feet a solid half hour ago. More, maybe. 

He loses his sense of time here, too.

The weight of it is solid against his tongue. Not fully hard but enough to give Jesse something to suckle on. Skin silky and musky and soft and the cowboy know he whines because a hand strokes over his hair, but he can’t hear himself make any noise. 

There’s too much fuzz in his ears. 

Too much static in his brain.

And it’s so, so nice to feel that way. To not have to deal with whatever bullshit drama is going around the base or the way things are falling apart around them. To not have to deal with his own personal failings or how he can see those he cares for are stumbling... 

No, not here.

Here it’s just... perfect.

So he sits long past his legs falling asleep. Long past when his knees protest and his hips hurt. Until it settles into that static and all he knows is the heat on his tongue and the hand on his head. The soft praise that falls around him like a gentle rain and builds him back up from the inside. The security of everything this is and means to him.

And later, when his head is lifted, and he’s told it’s time to come back, he does so slowly. Like rising up out of a dream back into reality. Where he sighs and eases back off the still semi hard prick with a nuzzle and crawls out from under the desk to sit back and ease his legs in front of him so the blood rushes back. That same rough hand squeezing his shoulder and lips pressed to the top of his head. A soft blanket tugged around him before he’s left to rest until his legs work again, and he has to get up and face the world once more.


End file.
